


It's Tuesday

by guineapiggie



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26855878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineapiggie/pseuds/guineapiggie
Summary: A part of him dreads her ideas, not just because he’s usually the one who has to drag everyone home without anyone getting run over. But however much he complains – he’d never say no to her. He can’t. She could come up to him with anything, with her tousled hair and that elated, determined look in her bright eyes, and he’d say yes.We should rob a bank – sure, Jyn, if you want to. We should overthrow the government. We should break into the Pentagon.Anything, probably. If she told him to jump, he’d ask how high. He’d find her an army if she asked him to.
Relationships: Cassian Andor & Jyn Erso & Bodhi Rook, Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Jyn Erso & Leia Organa, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 16
Kudos: 97





	1. Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> this is a repost of a tumblr writing challenge that I posted over there a while ago, but I really like how it turned out so I'm putting it here for posterity

“Jyn. _Jyyyyyn._ ”

Leia leans across the table and snaps her fingers in front of Jyn’s face. “Hello, earth to Erso!”

Jyn blinks. “Huh – yeah, yeah, I’m listening. What?”

“Oh my God, you’re hopeless.”

“What, no, not at all,” Jyn says, overcompensating, “tell me more about Han’s new, uh… car?”

Leia gives her a pitying headshake. “Dog. He got a dog.”

 _Damn it._ “What did I say?”

Leia rolls her eyes and picks up her cocktail. “You’re not fooling anyone, Jyn. Except for Cassian, for some reason.”

Jyn grits her teeth, wondering if she should maybe get that third drink after all, because this is _not_ a conversation she wants to have right now. Or ever, really.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Leia leans back in her chair, taking a dainty sip from her jewel-coloured cocktail that’s almost as out of place in this bar as she is. “Yeah. Because you’re too busy staring at Cassian to listen to me.”

Jyn is starting to get the feeling she’s not getting out of this one. But it won’t be for lack of trying. “I’m not staring at Cassian.”

Her friend sighs. “What do I have to do to get you out of the first stage of grief, Jyn?”

“Oh, you want me to move on to anger?” Jyn gives back, brow raised, and Leia laughs.

“Fair enough. But –“ she finishes her drink and points the empty glass at her, “- honestly, this is so sad to watch. You should just tell him.”

“No, of course I shouldn’t!” Jyn bites back, then she has a horrifying thought and adds, in an even lower voice: “ _Nobody_ is telling him _anything._ Okay?”

Leia sighs again. “You’re being ridiculous –“

“No, I’m not. Stop talking about it, what if they come over and _hear us?_ ”

“Oh, come on, just tell him, he’s –“

“One of my best friends? Yeah, exactly,” Jyn cuts in, glaring at Leia. It’s easy for her, isn’t it? Leia is one of those lucky ones; everything she touches turns to gold. She’s smarter than everyone around her, and she knows how to do _anything,_ and she’s beautiful; she gets everything she wants. Leia doesn’t understand what it’s like to wonder if you’re enough for someone, and why would she? Besides, it wasn’t like she and Han had been friends. If for some unfathomable reason he’d turned her down – as if he would have – it wasn’t like Leia would have lost a huge, important part of her life.

“Jyn. _Jyn._ He _worships_ you. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I don’t know, he could laugh! I could _die!”_

Leia rolls her eyes, completely unaffected by her dilemma. “This is Cassian we’re talking about. He barely laughs at things that are _supposed_ to be funny.”

“Not helping.”

Leia sighs. “Come on, Jyn, of course he won’t. Did I mention he’s clearly obsessed with you?”

“You’re _imagining_ that –“

“Why would I?” Her friend sighs again, woefully eying her empty glass. “Look, Jyn –“ she reaches for her hand and raises a perfectly plucked brow at her when Jyn jerks it away, “I’m going with your insane delusion here, but… even if there was any chance in hell that he would reject you, even though there isn’t… the chance of that –“

“And my subsequent death,” Jyn interjects petulantly.

“ – the chance of your death would be exactly that, a chance. You gonna let that stop you? Where’s the Jyn Erso who got a job at _the_ biggest IT firm in this city simply by virtue of being too stubborn to take no for an answer? Where’s the Jyn Erso who drove Han’s shitty old ford across a frozen lake to get my dumb brother to a hospital?”

“That was different.”

“Yes, in that it was _actually_ life and death. This is a homerun. Take a leap of faith, for fuck’s sake.”

Jyn throws her a dirty look and gets to her feet. “I’m getting another drink, you need to use less metaphors per sentence –“

“Deflecting –“

“- and I’m not going to put my most valued friendship on the line on trivia night at The Falcon in front of all our completely hammered friends, Leia.”

She’d expected to get another eyeroll for that, but instead, she throws her a worryingly bright smile, hands her her cocktail glass and says:

“Fine. Bring me another one while you’re on it, and you can tell him at my engagement party on Tuesday.”

Jyn raises a brow at her. “The fancy do with your parents to which we were all _specifically_ not invited?”

Leia is still smiling, and saunters towards her fiancé at the other end of the bar. “Like you would let that stop you. Oh, and tell Calrissian I want real vodka this time, not the fucking rubbing alcohol he serves to the kids who don’t know any better!”

Jyn is left standing in the middle of the crowded bar, holding two empty glasses while the room erupts into shouting and cheering as the results of the second trivia round are announced.

And, though she really doesn’t like to admit it… Tuesday doesn’t sound like the worst idea. Better than moving on to the second stage of grief, anyway.


	2. Tuesday

She’s in one of those moods, and this time, something’s got to give. He can feel it in his bones.

A part of him, the sensible part, probably, dreads them, those moments when her green eyes light up with another of her wild ideas. Some were just sudden and far-fetched - _we should swim in the ocean_ (they live in _Chicago_ ), _we should get Chirrut a cat, we should watch every Christopher Lee movie_ (that was exam season, they made through fourteen in one weekend, though Jyn was asleep for five of them and Cassian was secretly studying for three and a half), _we should get a piano for the Falcon_ (she actually found a banged-up, out of tune piano that they lugged all the way to the bar without a car; he still doesn’t quite know how). Some were vaguely illegal – _we should just get ourselves locked into the library –_ or really _just_ illegal – _we should throw a fucking brick through Bodhi’s old boss’s fancy glass façade._

A part of him dreads them, not just because he’s usually the one who has to drag everyone home without anyone getting run over. But however much he complains – he’d never say no to her. He can’t. She could come up to him with anything, with her tousled hair and that elated, determined look in her bright eyes, and he’d say yes. _We should rob a bank –_ sure, Jyn, if you want to. _We should overthrow the government. We should break into the Pentagon._ Anything, probably. If she told him to jump, he’d ask how high. He’d find her an army if she asked him to.

He can’t say no to that girl, even though he tries, even though he’s always somehow scared.

And today, even though her idea is tame in comparison – _we should crash Leia’s party, she’ll laugh about it tomorrow –_ today, something’s going to give. Something will break; he just hasn’t figured out if it’s going to be someone’s bones or an irreplaceable antique or a window, or, and that’s probably what he has always been scared of when she gets like this –

She comes up to him, smiling and flushed from the stuffy air and her hair falling out of the haphazard updo, holding up two glasses, and tugs him down to her completely thoughtless, unaware of how close she is and how the heat radiates off her bare shoulder, and says “we should get on the roof”, and –

No, it’s going to be his heart. That’s what’s breaking tonight.

“Come on, Cassian,” she says, tugging at his sleeve, and leads the way through the crowded room.

“Why?” he asks in a defeated sort of voice when they’re in the stairway, and she shrugs.

“Needed some quiet. So do you.”

Cassian feels a bitter smile tug at his lips and wipes it off. He doesn’t want her to see – they’re friends, _good_ friends; of course she knows him well. That shouldn’t make him sad, and in the world where he’s not in love with someone who deserves better, it doesn’t. (In this one, it stings, because he _wants -_ )

Anyway, she broke the rules of this strange game now: usually, she’ll make one of her suggestions that aren’t really suggestions, and he’ll act like he thinks it’s a bad idea (usually because that’s true), and she’ll make up some grand and ridiculous reason – _it’s for the greater good, Cassian. It will heal your soul. We have to educate ourselves._

( _It’ll make me happy, for a while,_ is what she doesn’t say but he hears, every time. He can’t say no to that.)

In a twist that surprises no one, the fireproof door to the roof is firmly locked, and not even Jyn’s boundless determination is going to change that. She leans against the door with a laugh, putting herself squarely into his personal space, and holds a glass out to him. Her green eyes are on his, pupils wide in the dim light, searching, the smile slowly slipping from them.

She can cut him to ribbons with those eyes, and he wonders if, despite all of his efforts, she knows that. He takes a sip from the glass, but the burning at the back of his throat doesn’t do much to help.

Two floors beneath them, the noise of the party is muted slightly when someone finally has the bright idea to close the door all the way, and the little landing seems to shrink a little further around them. Jyn’s hand is holding on to the front of his jacket, and he doesn’t know how he missed that happening.

 _Maybe,_ he thinks again, _maybe she knows._

“Cassian,” she mutters before he has the chance to wonder what that means. He feels warm and weightless, and like this little landing exists outside of the real world. He could blame that on the whiskey, but that would mostly be a lie.

“You should kiss me,” she says, and somehow, all he thinks is, _so she does know. So much for that pokerface, Andor._

“Why?” he says, thinking if she’ll just come up with something grand and idiotic enough, it’ll give him an excuse to actually do it, without ruining that one friendship he doesn’t think he could live without –

But Jyn just shrugs, and there’s no grin and no derision, just her warmth inches away from him and her tousled hair and the faint freckles and the little scar on her chin and her green eyes. “I don’t know, because it’s Tuesday.” She’s so close now, her words barely register, but he laughs anyway.

“Just kiss me.”

He couldn’t say no to her, even if he wanted to. (He doesn’t, though.)


End file.
